I Saw Her First
by Midnight Ash Princessa
Summary: A new vigilante in town is causing problems for the Saints, her codename "The Angel". Haste and suprises turn out to make it a girl, which is something the MacManuses never expected. What will happen when she is invited in? ConnorxOC, Rape


**Note: I do not own Boondock Saints. **

**I Saw Her First… [ConnorxMurphyxOC]**

Connor saw her first, the girl who was giving them problems with all their vigilante work. It was the first time this had ever happened and neither could believe this. No one even knew she was a girl until Il Duce caught her at gunpoint. The wind had been high that night, the strong winds blowing her hat from her as she stood there, pissed at being caught.

The boys could have almost cheered their father on for catching "The Angel". A demonic smirk filled her face as she moved down into a crouch for a moment, her movements slow as she glared at him through piercing yellow eyes. She'd never been caught in her life, not now and they certainly couldn't keep her forever.

Her feet moved, her body falling from the building before she was shot by Murphy from below. An inaudible scream escaped her as she grasped the bleeding bullet wound, shooting her Desert Eagle at the male. Her poor form crumpled to the ground, rolling as she moved to get back up and run again. This time, pain ripped through her as a bullet found its way into her upper thigh, a yelp escaping her this time.

She kept pushing, had to, wanted to, needed to. Her footsteps could be heard only barely down the slightly damp alleyway before they disappeared from all ears. She could hear the Irish accents swearing loud and clear, but she stopped, her heart still pounding. It was a close call, but not close enough. Her yellow eyes glanced away, meeting the crowds of people that lined the streets. She would merge with them…that way it would be harder to find her.

Murphy had followed her, his pursuit close to success. Unfortunately, she had done well to blend into the crowd, an exasperated sigh escaping him. His hand ran through his short hair, the tips stuck to his forehead which was slick with sweat. He'd gotten a glimpse of her catlike yellow eyes, but no more than that. His boot came in contact with a rusty can as he swore loudly down the alleyway. What would happen during their next encounter?

Noah MacManus slapped his boys on the back of the head, his own frustration hidden beneath his murderous calm. He wouldn't let them know that he was upset with them, that they had failed in catching someone who knew all about them. Her yellow eyes and purplish black hair was engraved in his mind, the smirk upon that hidden face feral. His insides screamed at him for letting her get away. She had been there, at gunpoint. If only he had just pulled the trigger…

She fell to her knees as soon as the door to the ragged tenement was open. With what little strength she had left, she pushed the door shut, laying on the mattress that lay on the floor. Her purple bangs fell into her face, obscuring her blurry eyesight even more. Her eyes fell to the knife that lay on the floor beside her mattress, hand dropping onto it as she forced herself to sit up. She needed to dig out the bullets so that she could heal; the scars didn't matter, the bullets did.

Fresh blood splashed down her arm and leg as the knife dug into her soft delicate skin. Her free hand grabbed the small bottle of vodka, the alcohol cleaning the wounds, though it burned horribly. Her mind kept wandering, wondering what would have happen if she hadn't gotten away. What if one of them had seen enough of her face to catch her with today's technology? She couldn't tell, but the uneasy feeling in her stomach wouldn't go away. Would she get the chance to kill them next time?

"I can't believe it's a girl." Connor kept muttering to himself as Murphy finished fixing a sandwich. "Don't worry Connor, we'll get her." He promised, his hand falling to his brother's shoulder. Their father nodded as he retired to the bathroom for a nice hot shower. As Doc offered the Saints beer, Connor and Murphy sat there, discussing the strange vigilante girl.

They had seen her, assumptions rising and falling with the conversation before it fell short and silent. Due to their own flaws, she had gotten away and Connor couldn't take it. His fist slammed into the table before he stormed from the tiny apartment, his brother and Doc looking after him.

It was raining now as she stepped from her apartment, her wounds hindering her ever so slightly. The thunder was equally as frightening as the lightning, though she made a thorough job of ignoring them until someone's shoulder came in contact with her own. The brief impact made her stumble a bit, an annoyed growl slipping from her.

Connor turned around as the person growled at him, the noise only angering him more. "Why don't you take that growl and shove it up your ass!" He yelled before his eyes landed on the girl's yellow ones, her back turning to him before his hand shot out to grab her. That's when she broke into a run, lightning cutting through the sky as she slipped making her sharp turn into an alleyway, her leg easily giving way.

His hands grabbed her wrist, throwing her into the wall and holding her there as she glared at the ground. His Beretta easily slipped into his hand as he held it to her head. Connor couldn't believe his luck, running into her now of all places. His eyes wandered over her body before they met the glare from under her hood. He needed to get her back to his father and brother; together they could decide her punishment.

She couldn't believe she'd been caught as she dropped to the ground, her wrists bound by a thick bit of rope. This was a new one for her being the Angel of the Night, her boot tapping lightly on the concrete so that the blade would slide out. When he stopped to look both ways, she struck at him, his strength knocking off her balance though her blade cut his cheek. His mere force knocked her delicate form into the wall, the blade sliding back into its easily unnoticed sheath.

"Son of a bitch." She murmured to herself as Connor glared at her, grabbing her delicate form and dragging it the rest of the way back to the apartment. Of course, she wiggled and attempted to squirm from the male, his grip firm on her. He finally dropped her on the doorstop, her legs having fallen asleep as he pushed her towards the door.

Murphy was a bit worried as he looked out at the storm. What if Connor got hurt somewhere and couldn't make it back? The door opened at that moment, revealing a hooded figure and Connor MacManus. He took a step toward them, curious as to what had happened to them both.

"So, brother, you go out to vent and instead bring back a harlot?" Murphy asked as the hooded eyes looked up at him. They were yellow…that same cat like yellow. She hissed mentally at his insult as she ran forward, her wrist blades breaking the last strands of the rope before she slashed at him.

"How dare you call me a harlot?" She snarled angrily, not stopping with her kicks and punches until she heard the guns clicking. She stopped, her fist coming down on Murphy's head as she looked through her purple bangs to see them. Il Duce and one of the Saints were holding her at gunpoint once again.

Noah was frozen in his spot, his eyes watching the rest of the people. "Come on, let's go upstairs...we can sit down and talk there." He suggested, his other hand held out for hers. "If I don't, I suppose that would be unladylike…" Her accent was there, hard to miss but audible none the less. She lightly placed her hand in his, a smile on his old face as he lead her upstairs, his sons following suit.

"Since when were the Saints so innocent and nice to those who attack them?" came the girl's silent voice. He was sure he heard Murphy gasp while Connor snorted, the two showing her how little they cared. They were upset by her actions, but they had been raised not to show it.

She plopped onto the chair, her legs crossed underneath her cloak. Noah sat down opposite her, Connor on one side, Murphy to the other. Her hands slipped up to move her hood down, her yellow eyes looking awkward against the nicely tanned white skin as her purple bangs fell into her face, the natural black shining beneath the dull lights.

"What is your name, Angel?" Il Duce asked softly, obviously trying not to scare her. "Charlotte...Charlotte Ravena." She replied, eyes narrowing as Murphy gasped from his father's side. "I've heard of you. We all thought you were a myth." He said quietly, looking away as a smile graced her face. "I was disowned by my parents at a very young age. I was taken in by a priest, his intentions righteous though his heart was horridly tainted." Charlotte spoke lightly, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip.

"So why are you working as a vigilante?" Murphy asked, having heard the rumors and myths of the streets. "God told me to do so. He however did not state that the Boondock Saints would find me a threat." A slight smirk could be seen now as she licked her lips, watching their faces. "You couldn't be a threat if you tried!" Connor snorted, leaning back as if he were just that cool. Murphy shook his head as he watched her. "Forgive his stupidity." He murmured, a light glare rising as his brother smirked at him.

"He's just like the priest…the one who took me in." She said, looking away as the memories hit her. A soft sigh escaped her as her fingers began twirling a piece of her hair. Murphy's eyes searched for hers behind the yellow contacts she wore. "Please..tell us why you're working for him." Il Duce said with a gentle smile as he reached forward to touch her, only for her to recoil as if burned.

"Because he scarred me, told me that I'd have nowhere to go if I didn't and that if I did not…he would kill me." She said softly, Murphy's head tilting as he pondered what she meant. "You will join us. A girl might soften up these boys o' mine. Give them a reason to become gentlemen once in a while." Noah said, slapping them both on the back to earn a loud "Pa!" from them.

"Thank you for that offer, but I refuse to drag you into something that doesn't concern you…" She said as she stood only to be met face to face by Noah. "Please stay and think it over at least." He said, his hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "Very well. May I use your shower?" came her soft delicate voice, the hard exterior shattered to nothing. A nod followed his hand's descent and Murphy took Charlotte's hand, leading her away to the bathroom, Connor watching in distaste.

The water was satisfying and warm, the feeling of it caressing her skin enough to make her moan slightly. Her cheeks were flushed from the excessive heat as she pondered whether the door had really just opened and closed. The shady figure undressed behind the glass doors before pale fingertips were visible on the other side. She hid against a corner, knowing it provided little cover as she pressed to the cool tiles.

Connor's fingertips slipped down her back, eyes tracing the scars that slid under his touch. They had been there a while, raised against her smooth skin, the mars of a tragic past. She was murmuring and shaking her head, what she meant unknown to him as he stepped forward, hands rubbing from her breasts to her hips. Her teeth bit down into her bottom lip as she murmured a soft no to the tile, the horrid memories of the priest returning to her.

He smiled as his arm slipped around her waist, her breathing having taken a quicker pace, a tear streaming her cheek before falling to the wet tile. His other hand slipped lower, burying slender lengths into the warmth of her core as she gasped, her nails digging into his forearm. "No...No...not again." She whimpered as her stomach flipped and the pressure began to build. His fingers continued their cycle into her folds, her juices flowing easily down his hand. Charlotte was saying no but her body was saying yes; his male intentions had started off good but now he had a problem of his own.

She could feel his length pressing against her inner thigh before his cool wet skin pressed to her back, his hands sliding down to her thighs as her hands gripped at the tiles effortlessly. Her body relaxed as he murmured about how hot she made him, his Irish accent breaking the reverie of her own personal nightmarish memory. She gasped as he pushed into her core, whimpering as she waited for the pain that never came. Her nerves were extra sensitive, one of her favorite traits, his length massaging her insides with each thrust, her eyes closed as her steamy breath could be seen momentarily against the tile her fingers were still trying to grip.

Pleasure was racking her body as the pressure grew almost too much to bear, feeling Connor's teeth on her neck taking her over the edge as she yelped out, her juices splashing all over the shower floor and his legs. Her body was trembling as Connor pulled from her, her legs giving way to her as she fell against his chest. His hand rubbed her arm and back as she tried to control her panting. He was satisfied with how he had welcomed her to the gang. Her eyes looked up into his, catching him in surprise as they were no longer that yellow but a beautiful dark green.

"Welcome to the Saints, Angel…" He whispered hesitantly, still stuck on staring into her eyes. She smiled before her eyes closed and she slipped, his arms picking her up. He wrapped her in a towel as he slid his pants back on, picking her up and carrying her tired body to his room. Murphy gave him a suspicious look as he walked into the room which he shrugged off with the excuse of her slipping.

She awoke some time around midnight, a cold sweat about her as she abruptly sat up in bed. Her hand immediately went to her arm which had gone numb, a slight pout falling onto her lips as her eyes fell to the floor. Her vision was a bit blurred as she had only just woken up, a slight 'mmf' escaping her as her balled up fist rubbed her eye. She looked about the room to see not Connor, but a still sleeping Murphy.

Carefully, quietly, she got up and slipped out onto the rickety balcony, leaning against the railing as she looked up to the stars and moon. As Murphy rolled onto his side, his hand dropped to the floor, making his eyes shoot open as a creak was heard. His hand automatically grabbed his Beretta and aimed at the shadow standing in the doorway. That was before he saw her green eyes staring at him, moving to drop the gun…

Charlotte's eyes widened as the gun was pulled on her, her hand tightening around her own Desert Eagle. She wouldn't let a dazed Murphy stop her, if it was between her and her life; she couldn't allow something so risky. He blinked a few time before he sat the gun down, still watching her half asleep. Her hands slowly lowered and she smiled to him.

"What're you doin' up so late?" He asked as she sat down beside him. "I was just watching the stars and such…" She said quietly, his hand finding place on hers. "Something's botherin' ya. Why don't you tell me?" He asked, eyes searching hers as she tried to find a logical explanation. "Just my past…but you can't live in the past." She whispered softly, more to herself than to him. He nodded before tugging on her hand to pull her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her. "Tell me…" He urged as the scent of strawberry in her hair made him nuzzle his nose into the top of her head. "Well…it all started when I was about 10…"

Connor could hear talking from his place in the shower, vivid flashes of what had happened earlier making him long for it again. Curiosity seized him as he stepped from the shower, toweling dry his hair, another about his waist. He peeked into the room where his brother and Charlotte were staying, not surprised by the fact that Murphy lay in only his boxers and her in his shirt. After all, his brother was the sensitive one.

The days moved quickly and quietly, Noah noticing a certain strangeness about his sons and Charlotte. He could almost swear that she had blushed when they said her name or that Murphy and Connor would grin when she called them "her boys". What had taken place he didn't know, nor did he care. As long as the mission worked out, he was fine.

The Saints would go in through the doors at the back of the Chapel; the priest would most likely run to the pulpit where in the giant decorative bible laid a gun, small but effective. The Saints would be the distraction as Charlotte snuck in through a secret passageway overhead, one she had used all the time as a child. She would slip down from it, tell him how he had made her feel, plant her signature bullets into his head, and they would be gone without a trace.

It started off simple, becoming more complicated as the preacher shot Murphy in the arm, Charlotte's eyes widening as she held her breath. She was sneaking along the high up lining of the church's dome before she stepped off, dropping more than a good hundred feet. Her boots went click clack as the knife slipped out and she sliced at the priest who had caused her so much pain. Before they knew it, her signature bullet had been placed and she turned, walking down the aisle to the doors and opening them.

Connor and Murphy stared after her before they looked at each other and shouted. "Aye, where ya goin'?" Tears of joy and sadness were streaming her cheeks as she attempted to reply. "I'm going to leave and try to have a normal life. But thank you." She said as the warm sunlight washed over her face, the twins jerking her back in, Connor shaking her by her shoulders lightly, while Murphy held her hips from behind.

"Ya ain't goin' nowhere, alright? WE love you and WE will always be here for you." He said as she watched tears brimming at the corners of his eyes. Murphy nodded before laying his head on her shoulder, Noah closing the doors and walking up to them. "They seem to have taken a liking to you, Angel. Welcome to the team. It's your new permenanent family…"


End file.
